Soaked
by x.soaked-silly
Summary: AU. New York City 1868. Jade struggles with an overbearing mother while trying to become a nurse after her father abused opium for his arthritis. Caterina strives to break out of the cell her father has put her in while dealing with mental issues and also while taking care of her mother who has contracted tuberculosis. Now they find each other over a common interest: medicine.
1. Chapter 1

_Soaked_

**1850s-1860s. New York City**

Jade found her escape in old, tattered books her mother kept in the attic. Nearly all were misshapen, their bindings worn and bent, and most had covers and pages missing. Often times there was writing in them. Highlights, circling, notes. Sometimes, especially in the more smaller printed books, it made the pages unreadable. Yet still she was able to find solace in their stained, yellowed papers.

There were many books her mother had stashed away, having inherited them from her grandfather, a most well read man who carried his pride in his upright posture and took delight in the revering gazes of those who were not as knowledgeable as he. Her mother, who had never attempted to finish a short story let alone a novel, was set in her ways even from a young age that she was to focus all her efforts into becoming a woman and not waste time on trivial things, like reading, she believed only men needed to know. Men like her successful grandfather who was studied in the medical field and had superlative skill in doctoring. With his wealth, her mother never need worry about financial issues. She would certainly be married off to only the most becoming of suitors. There was no need to twiddle away her time on books and that belief followed her even when she had her daughter. So currently there were piles and piles of books resting in the attic, waiting to be read.

Eventually, her mother was married off to a handsome, tall, wealthy man who stole opium and the occasional morphine from his own practice (for he was a doctor too). Later, it became known he stole to sedate the pain from arthritis. But the fact was only discovered after he had foolishly overdosed. And thus Jade was left fatherless at the mere age of ten (and for some reason her mother seemed to not care that much at all). Luckily, by that time she had been taught how to read by her father and how to write as well. And just as her father, George, was wont to steal away and sit in the attic upon an old dresser, she also learned to do so, compelled by the mysterious way the novels would suck her into their world.

There were now many different books in the attic and when she was younger she had hoped to finish them all. There were mysteries, romances, adventures, medical journals, and even books that touched upon the most strangest of things like tree frogs, for her grandfather was apt to divulge himself into all types of knowledge. Some of her favorite books to read were her father's medical journals as well the adventure types of books. But the most beloved novel was Jane Eyre. It intrigued her, the expedition of an orphan who eventually fell in love only to find out her soon to be husband was already married. Countless times she would tiptoe up to the attic at night (for her mother discouraged her reading, saying she should spend her time bettering herself as a woman) with a candle held tightly in her small, pale hands, and read through the adored book which, from years of use, had smudged letters and dog eared corners. Occasionally she would stay up all through the night, the candle she placed beside her on the floor wasting itself away, the flames licking at the wax it used for fuel. In these situations she would often fall asleep only to be found and scolded by her mother come morn. But she had long since ago braced herself against her mother's needling words and did not adhere to a thing the dreadful woman said. She had vowed that she would continue reading throughout the duration of her life because she loved each and every single book collecting dust in the attic, and even, perhaps, every book in the world.

Except for maybe one. The Scarlet Letter.

At the time she had read it, she had been young, struggling through the particularly difficult words by breaking them down or by using a dictionary. She hadn't understood why a woman would commit such an offense as adultery. The very concept was horrific and she completely agreed with the punishment Hester Prynne received. Why would she sleep with another man when she had a perfectly rich, loving husband (who eventually was driven to insanity) just overseas? It was appalling, the sinful act resonating in her a deep hatred for Hester, as well as for Pearl, since it was ingrained into her very being to hate anyone who made a mistake. Her mother was constantly turning her nose up at the people walking by the streets and when Jade would question why that was so, her mother would take her aside and explain very quietly exactly what was wrong with that person and commonly she would add, "We do not associate ourselves with such scum." Usually that was all her mother would say on the matter and they would continue alongside the street, her mother constantly reminding her to hold her chin up and not to slouch so much or she would develop a hunch and no one would want her.

However, Jade can recall distinctly there was one man that frightened her mother into shoving the pair of them hurriedly into a store. Jade had glowered at her mother for accidentally tripping her in her precipitateness to get away from that man. Upon seeing the look on her daughter's face, Mrs. West grabbed Jade firmly by the upper arm and slapped her. Her aggressiveness had caught Jade off guard, the young girl never before having been hit, let alone in public. Luckily only the storeowner had seen from his place upon his counter (as it was a lazy day and he felt not like patrolling his wares). He merely lifted an eyebrow at the sight, having seen much worse than that in his lifetime.

"Jadelyn that man was _sinful_," her mother gritted out between clenched teeth, offering no explanation for the abuse Jade had suffered just moments before. Jade didn't even have time to ask why before her mother launched into an explanation. "He's a sodomite," she hissed. Jade stared at her blankly, having only read the word 'sodomy' maybe twice in her many books. With an exasperated sigh, her mother explained further. "He's a bad man that has intercourse with another man." Her mother's eyes were alit with fury, muscles tensing and the corner of her lip slightly twitching. Immediately Jade's eyebrows sloped, her blue eyes hardening and face contorting into an expression of disgust.

"You are to never associate yourself with one of _its kind_," her mother instructed and Jade gave a curt nod of her head. She was to scorn all outcasts. Anyone that was not normal. According to her mother, they would drag her down to the pits of hell and she would rather not rot in a fiery demise. Even though her and her mother frequently disagreed, she held her mother's opinion of any person derelict in their duty to society. That is to say if they were not "normal" then they deserved to be cast aside by God. There was a reason they were such castaways after all.

As time went on, Jade began keeping a small journal of everyone in the New York City area that was in her portion of town. Every time her mother mentioned a name, she would jot down the person and a description of them ranging from their physical appearance, including garments and adornments, to their habits. Sometimes she wrote down their likes and dislikes as well.

Within weeks she had compiled a list of twenty people, one of the most interesting being Mr. Valentine. Now Mr. Valentine was a somewhat friendly man, however queer, and was currently serving in the army to hopefully settle the dispute between the Union and the Confederacy. It was well known that he needed the money to support his poor family. He had volunteered. While he had been away there had been speculations about his wife, which Mrs. West swore to the highest God in all the Heavens to be true; that she is a good for nothing harlot, relishing in the time her husband is away. Adulterer. A woman to be damned. Because of the rumors snaking their way across the city, the Valentine name has been slandered and anyone who passes by the Miss and her daughter sneer and scurry to the other side of the road. Many people whispered as they walked along, claiming the Valentine daughter to be no better than her mother and that when Mr. Valentine came back from the war he will surely be displeased and continue drinking himself dead.

What a pity considering the only thing Mr. Valentine had was his name.

The Valentine daughter was deemed crazy as well. Even though she was only ten or so, there was something off about her. The way she walked, the way she talked, the way she was just so..._her_. It was a well known fact that the Valentine daughter hadn't done well in school (the school had since closed down during the Civil War) and was prone to fits in the middle of class. There were many different accounts from many students who saw her ragings. One group of boys testified that she had brought a small needle to school and had proceeded to stab a girl who had just been quietly memorizing her assignment, and then had taken a seat like nothing happened. Another group claimed she had gotten hold of scissors and then paraded them around, a silent threat to anyone who was stupid enough to approach her. The teacher neither confirmed nor denied any of this.

Jade pegged the Valentine family, low on the social hierarchy as it is, as a must avoid at all costs. The only family lower than they were the Shapiros. The Shapiros were dirty, grubby excuses for humans. Mr. Shapiro was well known for his frequenting of the taverns to scam soaked townspeople of their money. He was detestable and anyone who ever met him, unless under the influence of alcohol, steered clear. With sharp, almost disproportionate features, Mr. Shapiro made for a greasy, ugly human being. A stain on the town's otherwise respectable reputation, Jade liked to think. His son was no better. Robert Shapiro was what he was called. Wont to carrying around a self made puppet of sorts named Rex, he made for the laughing stock of the city. Yes, if there was one family more strange than the Valentines, it was the Shapiros.

The rest of the families in her journal paled in comparison to the oddity that were the Valentines and the Shapiros. Nothing else filled her journal besides her mother's endless ramblings of the people in the town and as time went on, Jade eventually stopped keeping her journal, finding it a waste of time and an outdated source of gossip.

As Jade grew she continued studying the medical journals strewn haphazardly in her father's study room (since her mother had not bothered to put away any of Mr. West's belongings). The more she read, the more interested she became in the field. It wasn't so much the ability to help ailing people that attracted her to the profession; rather, it was the gore and the distress of the patients that interested her. She couldn't place why, but something about seeing other people withering before her as she stood mighty and powerful before them gave her an adrenaline rush. In a way, she was almost playing God. Almost being the operative word. If she was to break into the medical field, she would surely become just another petty nurse. Considering the alternatives, however, nursing was far better than any other job. Her mother also intermittently mentioned that when Mr. West passed away, he had left his practice to a close family friend and should Jade ever want to be a nurse, there was a job awaiting her.

Jade couldn't recall her mother ever having company over (let alone having a close family friend) and doubted the apocryphal story. Still it was once her father's practice and they still had ties to it even with Mr. West long gone. So, spurred by the assurance in her mother's voice, Jade chose to enroll in the New York Medical College once she was grown, owned by the prestigious Dr. Clemence Sophia Lozier, for two years. Although becoming an actual doctor appealed most to Jade, she realized the unlikelihood of achieving such a goal without any previous practice and set her sights upon a nurse. Perhaps one day she would be in the position to become a surgeon.

Her mother was a strong advocate for the career choice her daughter had made. Over the years, her opinions of women's duties evolved and she understood more so the importance of an education. She had heard many of her friends chatter on about how nice it was to have women finally working, and as she grew older, she became wiser, accepting that times had changed for women. While her involvement in her daughter's life was minimal, she did care for the future, if only to uphold the West name. Any attempts Jade made to steer away from the medical path were quickly met with scorn and derision. So it was quickly revealed to the youngest West that her mother cared not for her, but for what she would become; however, it was not surprising. A few years before her father had died, Mrs. West withdrew herself from her daughter's life, becoming just a cold, rigid, authority force, instead of a tender, caring mother. The reason for her mother's sudden change always alluded Jade. Mrs. West was ruthless to her daughter, always adding quips of how Jade should hold herself straightly or no one would want to be around her. How Jade should smile more because she was so gloomy. How Jade was just so drab and should change her whole personality. Of course it was expected Jade respond with the most acute attentiveness and devotion to her mother's whims. She was to act accordingly because she loved her mother, and not just because Mrs. West was a parental figure or Jade would be swiftly admonished with, "Why don't you love me Jadelyn? I've only ever done right by you."

Through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes, Jade would always answer the same. "I do love you." The cause for saying such was only because her mother held the threat over her head that she would remove all the books lingering around in the house should Jade not listen and respect her. That did not mean Jade did not lash out, though. No, Jade found ways to escape her mother's smothering hold upon her and more often than not she snuck out at night, even if it was to do nothing but stroll along the sidewalk. Life wasn't just supposed to be about studies and she refused to believe that her mother could scare her into living the life of a studious, dedicated nurse without any fun whatsoever. She wasn't her mother's puppet and wouldn't bend to every whine and whimper of the awful woman.

It was no stretch to say that Mrs. West did not have the best relationship with her daughter and was showing no effort to make amends. _Because what's done is done and all damage our relationship suffered is undoable_, Mrs. West thought. It was clear Jade thought the same from the frequent eye rolls and, on the occasion, the tremors that shook her body when they were arguing. The shaking was not to be mistaken as a sign of weakness though. Not with the fire roaring in her eyes and with hate wrapping its cold hands around her being. When Jade lost her temper, she _really_ lost it.

There was no mysteries surrounding Jade's evident feelings for her mother. Any mother-daughter bond was up the spout, so to speak.

So with anger and resentment, Jade went about her days, finishing up school, reading, and sneaking out at night, her mother's wary, untrusting eye upon her during the day.

**1850s-1860s. Outskirts of New York City**

Summer days were what she lived for. When she could run and skip and hop all around town in the harsh rays of the sun without a care in the world. No schoolwork to be done and nothing but hazy days at the nearby pond to be had. She felt free then, no walls blockading her from doing what she wanted. No one to tell her she was a freak. It was just herself and most times under the shade of a strong oak tree, trunk weathered from the wind's merciless whips of air and rain's endless pounding. Occasionally her family would play with her, as well as an insistent boy who would not leave her alone. Robert was his name. He liked to be called Robbie though.

But besides Robbie's puppy dogging, summers were the best. Unfortunately, summer only came round once every year. That meant all the other seasons she was in school, surrounded by the judgmental glares of her classmates and the drab, droning sound of her teacher's voice who ignored all the teasing and bullying she suffered on a day to day basis.

The kids in school weren't nice. Most of them. Perhaps though, she brought their distaste upon herself. She occasionally had outbursts, though usually nothing too out of control. She had an ever roaming attention span and usually found it hard to complete the schoolwork the others did. She liked to categorize herself as special, but they labeled her with more...cutting words. She didn't let it get to her though. Not much. Besides, most of what the children chatted about was just a bunch of scuttlebutt. She had more pressing matters to worry about anyway, like containing herself and preventing an explosion of emotion from taking her by surprise. Sometimes, despite her effervescent personality, she became angry. Really angry. Then she would do something she would regret. Like stab Penny Mallsworth with a needle.

She was punished for that. When she was picked up after being spanked for causing a ruckus and being irresponsible, her parents were mad at her. They screamed at her; her father till he was blue in the face, veins of all different colors popping in his forehead and his arms, and even her mother for a few minutes. Then when everything finally settled down and her mother went off to ease her headache, her father grabbed his coat off the hanger angrily and stormed out. It was nearing ten o'clock by the time he came back and when he did and he saw her, sitting on the floor playing with a cheap toy doll Robbie had made her, his face drained of color. Green eyes met brown and her father quickly strode over to her and grabbed the collar of her nightgown, twisting it between his dirtied knuckles.

"You know what I was asked today Caterina?" he whispered harshly, eyes bulging out of his head. Spit was dripping down his chin and the overwhelming stench of alcohol slapped her in the face. When Cat merely wrinkled her nose, he shook her hard and lifted her in the air by her garments. "Huh!" And this time she shook her head quickly that no, no she did not know what was asked of the man. The answer only seemed to rile him up and he held her closer to his face.

Voice still in a whisper he said, "God damn you to hell Caterina. A man, my _friend_, a very rich fellow, done asked me why my daughter gone and stabbed someone! Said he lost some respect for my family..." and her father broke off mumbling and muttering things under his breath. Things like 'dick' and 'bastard.'

"Sorry," Cat squeaked out and her father's eyes snapped to her, widening slightly more if possible, like he suddenly remembered she was still here, hands clasped onto his iron grip. She was dangling in the air like a rag doll and he speculated on how easy it would be to just throw her into the wall. But no, he's not an abusive father so he just stared at her, fury radiating off his figure in waves and Cat could have sworn she began to sweat from his heat.

A few seconds passed and Cat, timorous body racked with shudders, began to pull gently at his hands, requesting permission to be put down. With almost no warning her father backhanded her and then dropped her to the floor. She gathered herself in a ball and watched as he stormed away, footsteps echoing loudly against the worn wood floor. She could recall some fathers slapping their children- knew Robbie had gotten hit numerous times- but it was to discipline them when they had done something wrong and always out of concern for their children's welfare. Her father's slap had seemed different to her though. Filled with venomous feelings and vile intentions, he had hit her without a second thought.

Cat cradled her wounded face with her hands, knowing from the various injuries she had received while running around outside that this would bruise and leave a nice purple mark in its stead. As she sat, tears began to pour from her eyes, the saltiness dripping onto her lips and splashing to the floor. She didn't make much sound, but just cried because it hurt and _he_ hurt her. _He_ did.

Within moments her mother had rushed to her side, her father long out of sight. "Caterina...Caterina I..." she mumbled almost incoherently, tears beginning to fill her eyes. Cat didn't understand why she was crying, but accepted the company nonetheless. Her mother grabbed Cat into a hug and stroked her curly brown hair, fingers trembling and catching in the knots of the young girl's hair.

"I'm sor...I'm sorr...He doesn't mean it Caterina. H-he just had a hard life. Nothing's been working out for him lately. Please understand, his name is all he has left...Don't ruin it for him...and then he won't ever do that again," her mother pleaded as Cat cried softly, hands tangled in her mother's own nightgown. She didn't understand why what she did had caused such a problem, but it did, and there's an intangible feeling of guilt wrapped in the bottom of her stomach.

"Please promise me you won't do something so foolish again," her mother admonished and Cat nodded her head fiercely.

"I won't do it again Ma." At her statement her mother let out a long sigh and the pair stayed there like that until Cat fell asleep on her mother's shoulder. Her mother picked her up and carried her to her bed before tucking her in and casting a small, apprehensive look behind her to the man leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, expression filled with hatred. Mrs. Valentine let out a shaky breath, wondering what exactly it is that had her husband driven off the edge once more. He swore once their son had died he would never lose control of himself again.

After that episode Cat had attempted to monitor herself and stop herself from losing her focus in class, but her father made it increasingly harder. Whereas before he was mostly smiles and laughter, now he was spiteful and bitter. No one told her why he became so. His actions were just to be accepted, the every now and then slap to be expected. He was constantly in a foul mood which in turn served to worsen Cat despite her desperate endeavors to keep herself sane. Depressed, she found it hard to be herself. Most of the time she would keep to herself, sitting in the corner of school and playing with a stick or something she had picked up on the way to class that morn; however, when her father was at his worst, she would become her worst as well.

More and more she started to become violent. Throwing things about when she was annoyed and screaming at others. And when she finally calmed down, she would have to deal with the repercussions of her actions which would once again drive her into a fit of madness. Rare moments was she the happy girl her family had known her to be. The girl that would twirl around in her dress all day, content to just be outdoors and watching the world fly by. The girl that would erupt into giggles and laughter for no apparent reason other than for the random thoughts circulating in her head. Thoughts that made her crazy.

These thoughts she had...when she voiced them, no one liked them. They would look at her strangely and wonder how in the hell she became so screwed up. They would call her stupid for merely observing the world around her. She for one, never thought herself stupid. She knew she had a different outlook on the world than most other people. And because these thoughts were abnormal, she was shunned.

"One time I was eating a huge picnic and then I went swimming, but then I accidentally swallowed some water and before I knew it I started choking, and then I started drowning...but I don't think it had anything to do with the picnic," was just one of the thoughts she was instructed by her father never to tell others because it was _strange_.

When her brother was around, he never used to think her odd. In fact, amusement would always glitter in his eyes when she said such a statement and then he would add in some of his thoughts. He would always agree with her and found everything she said to contain some form of intelligence. Her father would always demand that Franklin not encourage her behavior. Franklin, or Frankie as she donned him, would always swear to never do it again but then turn around and give her a quick wink, letting her know that he would not listen to Mr. Valentine's outlandish demands.

She missed her brother dearly. He passed away when she was eight. It was a tragic accident. Frankie had been out with her father on Mr. Valentine's insistence. When she had begged to go with them, her father had told her that it was high time for him and his son to have some bonding time and that she couldn't join. Encouraged by the affection his father was showing him for once, Frankie was quick to agree and said, "Yeah, no girls allowed." So she sulked back to the house, throwing glances every once in a while over her shoulder only to see the pair disappearing behind the numerous houses.

Somehow, eventually, the pair had ended up in the woods. They spent most of the day there, playing any game that Frankie suggested. The hours passed quickly and, in her father's words, "the sky got darker in the most ominous of ways." Clouds began rolling in and a storm blew in, lightning and thunder cracking across the sky. They scrambled to get out of the woods and once the road was in sight, lightning struck the nearest tree to Frankie and fell, its flaming branches trapping the young boy beneath its weight. Her father had then rushed back, sloshing in his watery boots and panting.

When a band of people were set out the next day, they could not find the fallen, burnt tree. He said he didn't remember the exact location they were in given the dangerous circumstances. Sometimes she wonders if she had followed them, would she have been somehow able to save Frankie? She knows thinking such things can be so torturous, but she can't stop. Often times it can get to much to bare knowing she wouldn't ever hear her brother's voice again. The voice that would dispel the bullies, the voice that would make her laugh for hours on end, the voice that would lift her up when she fell down.

It seemed to have a huge impact upon her parents as well. Cheerfulness was quick to disappear in the household, not that there had been that much to start with. Her mother became weaker, malnourished, and face taunt and riddled with wrinkles. Her father was a different man entirely. She couldn't recognize him. Before there had always been some sort of love, some sort of affection, some show of humanity for her, but now there was just cold nothingness. She might as well have killed Frankie herself given his attitude towards her.

Luckily for her, her father volunteered for the Civil War in 1861 on account of not having enough money to "provide for his family." Cat, however oblivious, knew it was to get away from whatever was haunting the man here. To run from something. She had no guesses as to what that something was, although from the looks of it, her mother understood what was happening.

Unfortunately, her luck seemed to run out a year or so later when her mother received a letter from Mr. Valentine explaining that his troop was supposed to carry out a plan that he could not describe in detail lest the mail was intercepted. He stated that he was incredibly fearful for his life and if he did not make it home to know that he had tried his best. This served to drive the already hysterical woman over the edge and she began to do things no respectable woman would ever dream of. She would come home at odd times, would always be weary, and just seemed completely run down.

Out of her two parents, Cat had always loved her mother the best and seeing the lady so dead inside scared her. Sometimes she would try to cheer her mother up by making the woman's favorite snack or lighting a nice fire from the firewood (twigs) she had gathered from outside or even just a hug. The embraces were always returned with less excitement than they were given until one day, they just weren't returned at all.

Her mother was frail and joyless. Standing upright for only a few hours would exhaust the woman, let alone walking around town, enduring the criticizing stares of the public. The big bags under her eyes became heavier, her bones more apparent, and every move she made was laced with some underlying pain. Cat did her best to help her mother when the lady soon became prone to spending most days lying in her bed, coughing and hacking. Tea would be made every few hours and for meals she cooked eggs she received from the Shapiro boy who had taken to following her around the kitchen when she was trying to prepare something nice for her mother.

"Why do you always make eggs?" was the usual question Robert inquired. In response she would always exclaim, "What's that supposed to mean!" And immediately Robert would cover his face, shying away from her like she was going to physically abuse him. She never did, as she was not violent towards her friends.

But as annoying as he was, she had him to thank for teaching her different recipes so that her mother didn't have the same thing for each meal. Unfortunately, no matter how good the food may be, a change of meal could not bring back her mother's health. Soon her mother confined herself to bed even though she did not seem to be sick. Instead, she appeared fatigued. Since she could not afford a doctor nor know where to find one, Cat stuck to her gut (as well as Mr. Shapiro's vague analysis) and prayed her mother would get the rest she needed from a few days off and then, hopefully, be healed.

It didn't help that they received no word from her father.

A few days quickly turned to a few months and her mother's condition did not change. Growing increasingly restless and nervous, Cat hardly left her mother's side. There was something amiss in her mother and it was not just her health even though she had now developed a small fever and was spitting up blood from the violent seizures of her god awful cough. It was when she was cleaning up yet another pool of blood from the floor that her father came home after one or two years of serving in the war.

It was just a rapping noise at first and she had smiled to herself, assuming that Robbie must be here and perhaps she could make him clean up this mess, but when the door flung open and slammed against the side of the wall, she knew it could not possibly be the young boy. She froze in her work, steadily listening as the thumps of footsteps grew louder, an angry mumbling accompanying it. Should she hide? Should she run? Should she lock the door? As she rose slowly to her feet, she heard the invader growl, "A man shouldn't have to knock on his own damn door and where's his wife ta' greet him when's he back from the damn war?"

Cat launched herself out of the room, sprinting towards her father, a broad smile lacing her face. "Daddy!" Because while he had certainly petrified her on more than one occasion, they were still related and he was still her parent. When she came closer to the man, she slowed down, her sprint becoming more of a jog before becoming a muddled walk where she could not decide to stop or hastily make her way to her father. The reason being the cane grasped firmly by his grimy fingers and the conspicuous gap where half his leg should be.

"Don't look at me like that," were the first words to leave his mouth.

"I-I'm sorry," she whimpered, halting a few feet away from Mr. Valentine, averting her eyes.

"Why are you so far away? Come over here," he crossly added and she obeyed, albeit hesitantly. He grabbed her into a fierce hug with his free hand. A hug that was more contact than love, like he was making sure he was really home and not still in the war. Nothing about the gesture suggested affection of any kind and Cat was soon trembling as he pulled away, tears forming her in eyes. She choked them down, and stared up at her father, the previously happy situation now turning more frightful as time passed, and she began to see him as a dirty stranger, for besides the forlorn misshapen figure, he was covered in muck. There was a bloody smell emitting from him, something metallic mixed with the stench of grease, sweat, and smoke. His hair was tangled with mud, and she could now plainly see the scars and bruises marring the hand that clutched his cane. His clothes were tattered, simply put, and boots worn down, holes near the front of it. It was clear he had not bothered to cleanse himself before making the trip home. Perhaps something had happened to him and he had not returned with the troop.

"You've grown," he stated, snapping her from her thoughts. It was not a compliment, nor was it an insult. Just an observation. _What's he playing at..._she wondered to herself, her eyes flicking over him endlessly, taking in time and time again the wounds from the battle. "Have you been keeping the house well?"

She nodded her head tersely, suddenly taking to playing with her fingers, yet even as she did so to escape his gaze, she could still feel his eyes on her, searching her. For what she did not know.

"Where is your mother?" She knew this question was bound to come up and had been planning for a few weeks how to tell her father, had he come home, that her mother was bed ridden, some ailment eating at her.

"She's ill father," Cat explained, briefly looking up to catch how his form contracted and tensed. She had clammed up, forgetting all former plans.

She swallowed.

"Well go on! What's ailing her?"

"I...I don't know. She has a slight fever and she keeps coughing up blood...I don't know," she admitted weakly as her father's harsh gaze raked over the house before storming towards her mother's bedroom. "S-She's sleeping." Her words fell on deaf ears as her father, judging from the loud bangs emitting from the room, had fallen to the floor near her mother. She sighed to herself as she went over the bedroom door, watching fearfully as her father talked thunderingly to her mother and ran about the house, pushing her out of the way when he went to grab something from the kitchen.

Taking her cue, she left for her bedroom and crawled under her bed, listening to her father's howling for an hour or so more before it died down and she fell asleep.

Later she had learned her mother had contracted tuberculosis. Her father was furious with her for not taking better care of her mother.

She could only imagine what he would be like once he heard the rumors around town.

* * *

_Author's Note: Big huge thank you to the lovely _ScienceIsAwesome_ for beta-ing this mess! You're awesome! Check him out :) Any who, hope you guys enjoyed! I would really appreciate it if you tell me what you thought in the comments! If all goes well I aim for this to be a pretty decent length! Thank you taking the time to read!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Soaked_

**1868. New York**

Time swept by, nothing of significance ever transpiring. Days were short and brisk, wind blowing, a cold front ebbing away while leaves and flowers struggled to burst through. It was the calmest time of the year, nature's clutch of death loosening as dark, ominous clouds filled the air, foretelling a major storm yet promising life. Jade liked and hated this time of year simultaneously. Despair and demise were still floating in the air, but, _they were moving on out as well, only to be replaced by happiness and joy_, Jade thinks darkly. This certain fact was dampening her mood. She was already unhappy as is. After all, her job was not what she thought it would be.

Working as a nurse at her father's old practice is boring. Not many people come, partly because it is right on the border of the outskirts of town and partly because not many people were sick (at least not in her area). Days meshed into each other, details becoming hard to remember. It was even tougher to recall when they had happened. When patients did in fact come, there were not many calls for the more pressing, more dangerous diseases, and which also meant no one came in cradling a bloody wound that called for immediate action lest the person died first. And because of the inaction, Jade spent her time sitting on a stool, back hunched over, reviewing medical journals as there was nothing else that needed to be done. Often times, she would stay after hours, because even though it was incredibly dull, spending time at home was even worse because then she would have to talk to her mother and even, perhaps, deal with _him_.

Beckett Oliver that is. Or rather, as he preferred, Beck.

Beckett was a handsome young man about twenty-eight or so with longer hair than the average man and a steady job as a factory owner. He was extremely wealthy and extremely proper. He carried himself rigidly, his shoulders pinned back and his posture straight as a stick. He was formal and polite, with an ever present grin curling at his lips. Taking in account other's feelings, he was caring and kind, soft-spoken and gentle, and refused to push Jade to do something she didn't want to partake in. With tender features and a rosy smile, he made for the gentleman girls fawned over. He lead the perfect life and it was essentially an unspoken promise that any woman he courted would have the most perfect life as well.

He could have any girl he wanted and fathers of young ladies were lining up, inviting him over for lunch, and requesting for an arranged marriage. He courteously declined every offer and instead pursued the independent, studious girl that lived a few houses down from him who had no family but her mother. He liked a challenge and did not care to marry for riches and fame, rather for love, an almost nonexistent concept at this time.

So, much to Jade's displeasure, he showed up often at her house to converse with her mother (the first step in proper courting). To discuss what, she did not know. Her mother had already attempted numerous times to give her away to Beckett, but the man refused, believing that she should marry him because she wanted to and not because that was what her mother wished for. On more than one occasion, Jade had gotten in an argument with the woman, her mother spitting and spewing that she should marry Beckett and if she told her mother she didn't wish to, then she was met with, "Marry or God so help you I will beat you." This was supposedly a wonderful opportunity for Jade and would make the West name all the more respectful.

But Jade did not wish to marry. She was opposed to anything society was tied in with. In part because she was her own person and refused to be defined by anything considered the norm, and also because anything society stood for, her mother represented, and she would not give in to her mother (although, at the same time, she was slightly hypocritical as she also agreed with society that certain people who were sinful were to be shunned). She would go to the ends of the earth to deny her mother what she wanted. Anything to show the strict woman she was not her puppet and not her toy. She was a human being with rights, and she intended to take full advantage of that however much it may upset her mother or even if it may upset Beckett.

Anyway, somehow Beckett had learned of her work schedule, probably due to the outlandish mouth on her mother, and commonly he could be found waiting for her at her house when her day was finished. It was only another reason to add onto the growing list of statements as to why she shouldn't go home after work. Sometimes if she was lucky and she waited long enough, Beckett would go home without troubling her, leaving only a note in his stead stating that he missed her and would be looking forward to seeing her the next day.

With a quick glance at the clock, Jade packs her things together (a book, a pencil she insisted on bringing, and a catlin she intends on stealing because yes, in her boredom and thirst for knowledge, she has taken to stealing) to go home. It's late enough that she's almost positive Mr. Oliver won't be there and her mother will be asleep. So she gets up from her place on the stool, stretches, and heads for the door, not bothering to lock it on her way out because the Wellingtons (the owners) live there on the upper floor and they never bolt it. Jade considers that stupid because someone, like her, could easily stroll in and take anything they wanted. Chloroform, scapulas, forceps. They were all at a thief's disposal. But Mr. Wellington believed in the best of people and didn't give a single thought to barricading his goods from the rest of the town. So who was Jade to defy him? She left the door unlocked and would laugh the day when someone finally stole something, not that it was a common occurrence and not that if she saw a break in she wouldn't try and stop it, but it would be ironic nonetheless.

The walk from the practice to her house is fairly quick, even when she takes her time, letting the night engulf her in all its sadistic blackness. She doesn't care; she has no fear of the dark. She's Jade West and she never lets anything intimidate her because that would make her weak, and she is not weak and she will never give in.

So she goes home in no hurry, watching as the flickering flames in the houses she walks by are blown out, the people inside ready for bed time. In her part of town, everyone is rich and all the houses big and boisterous. Then, as it neared the outskirts, the houses suddenly shrunk and it was where all the poor people flocked to. It was odd. Odd how there was no middle class and instead of a gradual change, it went from rich to poor in one heartbeat. Typically for business the rich tend to ride inwards instead of towards the outskirts, clearly trying their best to avoid the poorer citizens at all costs. Because of this, it made business hard for Mr. Wellington's practice, such as it was standing precariously on the thin line between the outskirts and the rich.

Such as the rich went inwards for business, the poor kept outwards, knowing they would never fit in nor be able to afford the more expensive goods where the rich shopped. On the poor side of town, taverns were placed haphazardly around, an easy access to anyone. Buildings were run down and an abandoned factory stood tall about five minutes from the most frequented bar. Because of the factory going out of business (due to the old machines that consistently broke down, the amount of people that died in comparison to the usual, the strike outs that were common, and the owner running out of funds) many of the people were out of jobs. It wasn't particularly hard to find a new job with the industrialization that was booming, but the fact that even the nearest railroad station was quite the far walk, even by horseback, made it so many of the people remained unemployed, which is why when the Civil War had rolled around, many of the folks in the outskirts signed up hastily to be part of the army. But now everyone was back (or maybe only half), with a small amount of spending cash in their pocket from revenue collected from service.

Jade reaches her home after another minute and strolls up to the steps, flinging the door open and locking it behind her. She hears talking coming from the room to her left and feels anger bubbling within her. He's here. Her mother is awake. Jade fully intends to storm upstairs, but the voice of her mother stops her.

"Jade, dear, is that you?" She resists the urge to go over and smack her mother in her face and instead lets out a grunt in response. "Mr. Oliver is here for you! Why don't you come in here and greet him? He's stayed up so late just to say hello to you!"

"Just call me Beck, Ms. West," Beckett tells her and Jade can hear her mother let out a shrill, fake laugh. Jade ignores her summonings and begins to head towards the stairs that would lead to her bedroom. Unfortunately Beckett walks out from the room he had been chatting with her mother in and heads over to her, cheerful face sporting a welcoming smile.

"Jade, hello. I haven't seen you in a while. Is work keeping you busy?" he questions, eyes inquisitive. He runs a hand through his brushed back hair and shoves the other in his grey suit's pocket. Clearly the suit is expensive with its sleek look and vibrant color (even if it is grey).

"No," she deadpans, telling the truth. His smile wavers the tiniest bit and a smirk spreads across her face. She loves making people squirm, making them feel inferior. She liked dominance and was quick to express her authority to others in their first meeting. If she was in charge, she could control what happened. _Let go of control and you'll end up like my mother,_ Jade snorts to herself.

"Oh, I suppose you have other duties to attend to then? Well I won't p-"

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I do not have any other _duties _to attend to. I would just rather spend my time sitting at my job, doing nothing, than to be here, talking to _you_." She studies him and watches how he sighs, demeanor becoming slightly tense. This is not the first time she's said something of the sort to him before. A loud voice booms from the other room, telling her to mind her manners, before being followed by a taunt looking woman.

"Just give me one chance Jade-"

"Jadelyn to you."

"_Jadelyn_, and I can prove I'm not such a bad guy. And not to blow, but I've been told I'm a fun man," he quips. "Two days from now. I will come for you at one sharp or God so help me I will drag you out of this house if need be." Beckett dons a smirk of his own, matching her facial expression.

"What if I'm not here?"

Beckett just winks at her, knowing she will be, if only because of the women standing off to the right whose face was reddening, purple veins appearing in her forehead. She was a vain, vile woman, but he was glad he had her to rely upon. If anyone could control Jade West...well her mother had the best shot. And with that, he unlocks the door, strolls out of the house, both hands in his pockets and whistles an upbeat tune just to pester Jade because he thinks it cute when she's annoyed.

Jade's blood is at boiling point and she ignores her mother's chilling insults she spews from her place near the door. Without any more hesitation, Jade heads up the stairs, brushing off the pestering woman. She slips inside her bedroom and gets ready for bedtime. When she finally completes her nightly routine, she lays on her bed and dozes off, sleep filled with the usual nightmares.

The next morning she gets up and heads to her job. She's greeted by Mr. Wellington, who informs her that he will be out most the day and is leaving the practice in her hands. She's the only other employee there (because it is a small practice) so it makes sense. He tells her the usual and explains that she should call him if anything dire comes up. They both know nothing will so he leaves and she's left to waltz around the place as she pleases, taking stock (once again) and reading through the numerous books compiled in the corner of the living room.

* * *

It hadn't taken him long to hear the gossip around town. A few days at best. When he learned of his wife committing adultery and the new rumors surrounding his ditzy daughter, he exploded with anger. He had grabbed Caterina close, his breath blowing in her face, carrying the distinct smell of rum, and he had shook her, rage making his hand shake and tremble.

"What have you done! I leave you alone for a short amount of time, and you ruined everything! I told you not to cause trouble anymore!" He was not fully drunk, just tipsy, but it was enough to let the anger boil in his blood, festering in his heart and strangling his logic. "But you do!" He had shaken her more before tightening his hold on the rim of her shirt, causing it to choke her. Panic sprinted in her and had she been able to breath at all, she would be hyperventilating. She could already feel herself becoming faint, black splotches dancing at the corners of her vision. "I can't trust you anymore, you dumb bitch! You've ruined me! What's a man without his name? I say, what's a man without his name Caterina!" She was able to croak out that she didn't know and she was sorry, but it was the wrong thing to say. Immediately his eyes hardened and he backhanded her and then pushed her against the wall. Instantly, her hands snaked up to her neck, tenderly fingering the deep line in her skin made from the cutting material of the dress she was wearing.

"And you let her betray me. You let your own mother turn against me! And now she is on her deathbed. She's going to die Caterina and it's all your fault!" He had paused in his rant, heavily breathing, eyebrows furrowing, sloping down towards his nose. His expression was one of utter disgust and she couldn't help but look away, tears springing at her eyes. "Who are you, Caterina?" Another silence. "Who are you?"

She knew she was expected to answer. "Caterina, d-daddy."

"Wrong. You're not my daughter." He left her, a foreign look in his eyes. One of malice, one of rigid coldness, one she had never quite seen before. It was the look of a changed man who fought in a war. One who had to kill to survive. One who would still kill to live.

As he walked away, she had slumped down to the floor, hiccuping and breathing quickly and shallowly, feeling as if she was getting no air. After a minute or so, she had passed out, the events that had just transpired to much for her to process.

After that he had locked her away from the rest of the world. He refused to allow her to go out and even told Robert Shapiro that she had gone to live with her aunt when he knocked on their front door, inquiring as to where the curly-haired brunette had gone. She was allowed no contact with the outer world; neither was her mother. Not that her mother could move about. The lady was confined to her bed because the consumption had become so bad, she could hardly even hold her head up any longer. Despite Cat's pleadings for her father to call a doctor, he never did. He had no money to spend on the costly medicine it would take to heal her and did not want to waste his time with a doctor who would surely want to push him to buy the antidotes necessary for his wife's revival. Besides, he believed she had brought this upon herself. If she had stayed loyal she would have not been slept with a man who had tuberculosis and would not have caught it.

With nothing to do, Cat resulted to taking care of her mother (putting on a cloth that she had fastened to act like a mask whenever she entered the room) and playing games with herself. She made up plenty of games, including make pretend ones where she would use her crudely home made dolls to act out a family. One that was whole and complete. Other times she would throw something (often times a pencil or a piece of paper) at a target she had made for herself and see how many times it would take for her to hit it. After all, she had nothing else to do. Not with her father prowling around the house, an untrusting eye always placed upon her. He was frosty and did not talk to her. She was expected not to initiate any conversations with him and not to look at him, for when she did, his eyes narrowed and he made like he was going towards her, hand outstretched in a silent threat. She was to make her own dinners and to take care of herself while he would look after himself and sometimes her mother as well. But mostly, he let Mrs. Valentine rot belong side her daughter.

Her mother wasn't in good condition. Most of the time she was sleeping, but when she was awake she was hacking up blood and shivering, like all the blankets resting on her could do nothing to keep her warm. It was times when she was awake that Cat liked going into her room best because then she could fool herself into thinking the woman was going to be alright. She just needed a little bit of rest. She remembers when one day she was sitting at the foot of the bed, mask on tight, that her mother awoke unexpectedly.

"Caterina..." she had called softly, once she was fully awake. Her eyes landed on her daughter, who scooted closer to her and reached out to clamp onto one of her cold, clammy hands.

"Mama..." Her mother's eyes brightened and she lifted her hand to Cat's face, holding it, thumb moving in small, spastic circles. Her thumb, and in fact her whole hand, were shaking. "Are you hungry? Are you thirsty? Can I get you something? Maybe you're cold-"

"Dear," Mrs. Valentine cut off her child's unending questions. "I'm fine. How ha-" she broke off, hand falling from Cat's face, coughing some more. There was no blood with that bout, but instead just the dry expulsions of air racking her chest. It had taken a minute or two for the cough to subside and when it did, she leant back against her pillow, eyes closing. She just sat there for a minute, breathing.

"Mama, are you okay?" Cat had ventured and her mother's eyes flicked open.

"I'm fine. How have you been is what I was trying to say," her mother weakly added.

"I've been good," Cat told her, donning a smile to support her act.

In a whisper, Mrs. Valentine questioned, "Has your father been alright?"

She took a second, wondering what to say. _To lie, or not to lie..._"He's been okay. I've mostly been out of the house at Robbie's, so he hasn't bothered me much," she lied. This seemed to comfort her mother who contentedly smiled.

"I'm glad then," she admitted quietly, casting her gaze over to the ceiling. A silence fell upon them where neither of them moved or thought or did much of anything, but was broken in a moment's time by her mother's mild voice. "I'm going to die, aren't I." It was said like more of a statement than a question. It startled Caterina, who could only stare at her mother, brown eyes big and innocent, like death is a topic she knows nothing about. "It's okay. If I die."

"You're not going to die mama..." It came out more of a plead then an assuring fact.

Her mother let out a sigh before closing her eyes. "I'm feeling tired now Caterina." A spluttering cough resounded as her mother clutched at her chest like the cough was crushing the bones inside. Like it was killing her. And it probably was. She'd probably die, but Cat just couldn't accept that. Death only happened when people got too old. Her mother was young. Only thirty five. Satan should not be knocking at her door yet.

"I'm going to find you medicine, ma! And then you'll get better and we can go back to the old times and we can go for picnics and swim in lakes and cook together and eat meals together and play together and typ-"

"Caterina, sh," her mother shushed the talkative girl who had yet to take a breath. "I'm going to go to sleep, and we will talk when I wake up," her mother promised with a grin. It eased Cat only the slightest bit.

"You'll see," she mummers to herself, before taking her leave as requested.

Thoughts of death and panic filled Cat's mind after that day. She couldn't lose her mother. Not the person who had taken care of her as an infant and had comforted her time and time again when Mr. Valentine took his anger out on her. Not the woman who had been there for her when the kids at school picked on her, called her foul names, and on more than one occasion tried to use physical violence to prove their point.

So eventually, she devised a plan. There was a medical practice run by Mr. Wellington not far from her house. He probably had medicine and books on the disease, not that she could afford any type of medication. Her father, angry as he was at them, actually _had_ bothered to ask Mr. Wellington if he could have discounted medication, but was met with a no since the practice was not making much money and could no longer dispense anything with a discounted price. So she figured if she was able to sneak out, perhaps she would be able to then ensconce herself near Mr. Wellington's and when they closed up for the day, maybe she could find a way in and take some medicine. She wasn't one for stealing or breaking the law, but desperate times called for desperate measures and she's sure if no one found out, then no harm no foul, right?

So that's how Ms. Valentine found herself lurking around the medical center on nights such as this one. It was easy to get in. Often times her father would go out to the taverns at around 7:00 p.m. and though he would barricade her door with furniture, she did have a window, so she slipped outside and would casually walk around to the front of her house, grab her shoes, and then take off in the direction of her destination, which would usually be at about 10:30 p.m. Once there she would hide in a nearby bush and wait for the girl with straight, light brown hair to leave as that nurse was always up later than Mr. Wellington. Because they kept the door unlocked, Cat was able to slink into the building undetected and without difficulty. Once inside was where things became...Well, they fell apart.

On her first visit when she had planned to _borrow_ tuberculosis medication, she realized she had no idea what the medication looked like or where it would be. So despite her search efforts, she had only ended up finding a pile of books in the corner of what seemed to be a library or a living room. She began picking through them, looking for something that would tell her what everything was. But when she opened one of the books, she realized her small, limited vocabulary did not allow her to read through the big, difficult books. She didn't have much of an education and couldn't write, let alone read a medical journal. Still though, she weeded through the information, looking for pictures and easy words that she could read in the hopes that she would stumble upon something of use. Some type of advice that would help her alleviate her mother's pain.

So she spent every night that she could at the building, staying well into the early hours of the morn. It felt wrong to be there, but at the same time, it gave her a thrill. She felt bad for doing it, but skilled for pulling it off, almost like a devious child who takes pride in the pranks they pull, even if they know it to be morally wrong.

As she spent more time there, she began noticing where things were placed. Like, for example, where the candles and matches were kept. She found where the medical supplies were located and where masks for working on the diseased were (she took one of those so she could enter her mother's room without using her makeshift one that most likely did not work as well). Eventually she began noticing something peculiar. Because she was wont to wander around the room, looking at things when she became bored of reading, she observed that certain things would just go missing. A tool sometimes, a book other times, even pencils that were usually kept in disarray upon a writing desk. And sometimes when the peculiar girl with the long brown hair leaves, a lantern dangling from her arm, Cat can usually spot something she swears is from the practice. The next day, the item is never replaced. But it's not her place to care, so she goes about her business, in search of something she hopes to find, but knows in her brain she never will. But still she attempts to find that something, grateful she hasn't been caught thus far. She's to sneaky to be caught.

So when she enters the practice tonight and goes over to her usual spot by the books, she's surprised to hear the door wrench open and slap against the wall. She turns quickly, fear etched on her face. "It's not what you think!" she says without thinking about it as the brunette advances on her, fists at her sides (items the brunette had previously been holding discarded to the side and lantern placed on a nearby desk), jaw clenching.

The girl lets out a haughty, mocking laughter. "Not what I think it is? Because I'm pretty sure you just _broke_ into this building," she barks. "What are you doing here? And more importantly, why shouldn't I just stab you with a saw right now?" The intimidating girl is now close to her, staring down at her, blue eyes on fire and eyebrows sloping towards her nose, facial expression one of hatred.

"I-I'm sorry! I just wanted to, um..." Cat trails off, biting her lip, tears brimming at her eyes. She has no idea what to say, caught in a situation that anything she answers with would be bad.

"Well?" the abrasive girl demands, hostility evident in her posture. Everything about her seemed to display coldness, meanness, and destruction, and that fact that she towered over Cat made the girl feel even weaker as she cowered, praying for the mercy of this unknown girl.

"I was just playing and I thought my b-ball went in here, and it wasn't, so I guess I'll be going now," she tries, playing off her statement with a nervous laughter that was clearly faked. As she tries to push past, the taller girl grabs onto her shoulder and shoves her back. "Darn," Cat mumbles under her breath.

"Not so fast. Who are you?" Undoubtedly she did not fall for Cat's tall tale.

Without a second's hesitation, Cat answers, "Caterina Valentine." Only when it was out of her mouth did she realize that it might be a mistake to reveal her name. If possible, the brunette's face hardened even more, contempt disfiguring her features and dragging the corners of her mouth downwards. "Who...Who are you?"

"I don't have to tell you my name...I should report you to the officials."

Instantly Cat began to panic. "No, no, you can't do that! My dad will be so mad at me! I wasn't supposed to come out of my room and I did and now he'll know it!" she spews, words spluttering from her mouth, her brain working a million miles a minute.

"Woah, what are you talking about? Slow down." the woman spits, undeniably taken off guard by the seemingly childlike girl standing before her instead of the criminal she had expected to confront.

"He's going to hit me, he's going to kill me, oh my goodness, please, you can't report me or I'll just...I'll just..." Cat's vision begins to dance before her eyes, darkness swirling in the corners of her retinas, thoughts racing through her mind and a feeling of light headedness starting to affect her consciousness. She starts to hyperventilate, breaths short and shallow.

"Woah, woah, calm down. Are you a fucking idiot? Stop it!" the brunette commands, but when Cat's balance seems to waver, she quickly adds, "I'm not going to report you to anyone, even though I should." This seems to put Cat at ease a bit and the other girl takes a moment to fetch a paper bag from the kitchen and then hands it to Cat, who looks at her like she's crazy.

"Breathe into it. God, are you stupid?" Cat begins to do as instructed and within a minute her heart beat is back to normal and her breathing regulates.

"Sorry," Cat says once she has her breath back and the brunette just looks at incredulously, thinking to herself that she should have just let the smaller girl faint but then remembering that if something like that did happen, it would be on her hands. "Are...Are you going to tell on me?" Cat whimpers, even though the other girl had assured her otherwise just a moment before.

The tall woman takes a moment to think on this, questioning what she had said before and changing her mind, thinking to tell Mr. Wellington. She could not just brush it off like it never happened. After all, it was illegal. "Well, yes, I-"

"Oh no please, no don't! I wi-" Cat's cut off as a hand wraps itself around her mouth and suddenly her attacker is behind her. She beings to struggle, eyes bulging out of her head, thinking this woman could very well snap her neck and kill her.

"Relax," Jade hisses and Cat does as she's told, knowing struggling won't really help her situation at all. "And stop yelling, you might wake the Wellingtons up. I was only going to say I'm going to tell Mr. Wellington, and frankly he's too much of an idiot to actually do something about your nighttime excursion." Cautiously, Jade removed her hand from Cat's mouth, muscles tense and ready to jump on the smaller girl if she chose to start yelling again.

Cat spins around, frantic. "If you tell Mr. Wellington, then I'll tell that you steal stuff!" she blurts out. Jade sends her a scathing gaze.

"I _what_?"

"You heard me," Cat mumbles, looking downwards, very aware of the trouble she could well be getting herself into.

"I do no such thing," Jade remarks which causes Cat to ball her tiny hands up into fists.

"You do too!"

"Do no- Why am I arguing with you? Even if you did tell him, he wouldn't believe you. You're nothing but a creep, stealing into people's houses at nights. Plus you don't have the best reputation Valentine," Jade points out, crossing her arms against her chest, in a very typical stance of hers.

"But what if he did believe me? His stuff is missing and if I tell him exactly what, then he'll know something's up."

"I could just blame you."

"Yeah, but I don't have any of the stuff. You do. Then when he doesn't find any of his things in my house, he will go to yours. Plus, I can't read. There's no reason for me to steal any of this stuff."

Jade didn't bother pointing out all the flaws in Cat's logic, instead inquired, "Then why are you here if not to steal? Why put yourself in danger of getting arrested, if you're not taking anything?"

Cat's face grew solemn and she began to play with her hair, twirling it around her fingers. "Well my mom's sick a-"

"Ugh. Why did I even ask. Never mind, I'm not interested in your sob story," Jade dismissed her. "Now would you just get out?"

Feeling a surge of bravery, Cat puffs her chest out and looked Jade straight in the eye. "No. My mother is dying and I'm not leaving until I find the solution."

"You don't have any grounds to demand things from me! Get out!" Jade snarls, pointing a finger towards the door. "_Out_," she adds for emphasis when Cat just stands there defiantly, mimicking Jade by crossing her arms across her body.

"Don't tell me out or...or I'll wake up Mr. Wellington and tell him I caught you stealing!"

"What? You can't do that, that doesn't make any sense. You'll only get yourself in trouble!"

"Nope, I'm going to tell him unless you back off!" Cat had to find a way to cure her mother or she would certainly die. If standing up to Jade was what she had to do, even if she was shaking from fear, then she would do it, no matter how much of a coward she actually was.

"Okay, okay, just stop talking so loudly!" Jade huffs, knowing that if Cat woke him up, this would look bad for the both of them. As much as the job was boring and drab, she couldn't lose it. It was her only solace. If she was fired, then she would have to spend every day at her house with her mother and the frequent visits from Beckett. It just wasn't worth it.

"So we're good?"

"Yeah, yeah whatever. Just tell me what you want and never, ever, come back again." Jade rolls her eyes, the defeat tasting bitter. Cat had her cornered.

"I want a lifetime supply of consumption medicine for my mother," Cat orders and as soon as the words are out of her mouth, Jade's eyes widen in surprise and shock.

"Are you _kidding_ me? We have no money, let alone costly medicine to just give away for _free_! You're completely _mad_!" Jade exclaims, the anger returning to her face after the initial shock fades.

Intimidated by the brunette towering over her, Cat backs down a bit. "Okay, okay. Then give me lessons on how to treat tuberculosis," she compromises. Jade holds a hand to her forehead, leaning into it, obviously exasperated.

"You don't need _lessons_. It's easy to explain in five minutes or so."

"Well I want to learn what to do when my mother's condition changes and I want a nurse to tell me why she's gotten worse and how I can fix it. So how about we meet every few nights and you teach me?"

"How about _no_."

"How about I tell Mr. Wellington?"

"I don't _want_ to teach you."

"I will wake him up," Cat states seriously.

"_Fine_."

Cat smiles, happy that she got her way. "Maybe you could teach me to read and do math and other things as well!" she quips. Jade sends a death glare her way and Cat seems to shrink back. "Anyway, I never got your name!"

The older girl debates answering for a second before telling the obnoxious curly haired girl, "Jadelyn."

"Jadelyn...Jade," Cat repeats, grinning.

"Listen. No one is to hear about us, no one is to know about us, no one is to even see us. Got it?" Jade hisses, knowing that should she be seen with such a poor, twisted girl, her reputation would be ruined.

"I like the name Jade, it's ver-"

"Caterina!"

"Sorry, sorry. I got it! You don't have to worry about that, geez, we'll always meet in secret. I'm not allowed to be seen by people anyway!" Jade doesn't care to question the other girl as to what that meant. Just icily watches as the younger girl walks towards the door, a small spring in her step. She turns around right before she exits, hand resting on the doorknob, and adds, "I'll see you tomorrow night!" And with that she disappears, door clanging closed.

Jade blinks, unsure of what exactly she had just gotten herself into. Nonetheless, life must go on and she picks up her items by the door that she had tossed to the side when first seeing Cat. She places a small bookmark back on the bookshelf she found it on, conscious now of the fact that Cat was going to "tell" on her. It was stupid to be scared, however, since she could easily get rid of any evidence of stolen objects.

So she heads out the door and into the cover of the night, surprised and thankful that Mr. and Mrs. Wellington had slept through the entire encounter. Lucky they were heavy sleepers, or she would have had a lot of explaining to do. In almost no time at all she reaches her house, thoughts of Cat consuming her brain. She considers not showing up tomorrow and just going home, but realizes that Cat _is_ unpredictable. Who knows what other dirt Cat has on her and what the smaller brunette would say to her boss should Jade not show.

As she throws open the door and takes off her shoes, the mindless chattering from the room across enters her ears. Thinking it to be Beckett smooth talking her mother, she storms over, fists clenched and hanging at the sides of her waist. She yanks the door open and is fully prepared to rant about the outlandish hours Beckett stayed up to see her, but is more than shocked to see it is not him. No, instead it is her mother (a given of course) and a man with tanned skin. Ethnic. More than likely he worked in the factory across town. Jade narrows her eyes, in no mood to deal with someone who could barely speak English.

"Ah, Jade. I heard so much about you." Today was just full of surprises.

"Who are you?" she ignores him, unease seeping into her stature.

"No need to get all uptight. My name is Lane Alexander, but you may call me Lane if you wish. I'm here for etiquette classes. Your mother called upon me, telling me that you have a very important...meeting, if you will, tomorrow." Lane's eyes sparkled with joy and gaiety, something Jade was not found of.

"Listen asshole. I don't need any manners classes no matter what my _mother_ tells you. You wasted your time coming here and, actually, why are you here so late?"

"Well I was supposed to come tomorrow morning to give you a few pointers, but I happened to be shopping around here and decided to stop by. Your mother, a wonderful woman by the way, invited me to stay for tea and to wait until you got back. She said you would be late, but I didn't mind," Lane answers, quizzical and not understanding Jade's hostility even though he had been warned that she was very snarky.

"Well you should just go home." Lane nodded and stood up.

"I guess I should be taking my leave now a-"

"You should."

"_And_," Lane continued, ignoring Jade, "I'll be back tomorrow." Once again he pretended not to hear Jade's loud moan of complaint. "It was lovely seeing you Ms. West and thank you for the tea." With that he exits, Ms. West not far behind as Jade slowly waltzes out. He grabs his jacket and heads out the door without another word. Then Ms. West turns on her daughter.

"That was incredibly rude."

"Yeah, well maybe you should take a look at yourself. I don't need _etiquette_ classes. I know how to be polite, I just choose not to."

"And that's precisely the problem. If you can just _learn_ to be nice and proper and get into the habit then everything would be fine."

"I'm not going to learn."

"You're so disrespectful."

"I try."

"Jadelyn," her mother's voice rose. "Watch yourself. I can take away your books, your job, anything I want really." The sureness with which her mother says it makes Jade's skin bristle. She looks at her mother with pure disgust and resists the urge to just scream at the lady until she is blue in the face.

"You can't. I'm too old for that now. You can't control me."

"I can kick you out."

"I dare you." The challenge hangs in the air, animosity filling the room. Her mother says nothing at all and Jade knows she won't be kicked out. With a grunt Jade spins and heads up the stairs towards her room, knowing tomorrow was going to be an absolute disaster. First her appointment with Lane who seemed too jolly for his own good, then the few hours with Beckett, and finally her meeting with Cat.

Jade enters her room and throws herself onto her bed with a loud groan.

* * *

_Author's Note: Again thank you to my amazing beta! This man is great. Go check him out! Also, thank you to the reviewers and readers and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Soaked_

He comes early, clad in a suit that was well beyond its years, color washed out from multiple times of use. He bows when she opens the door, smiling at her, eyes twinkling as if he's the happiest man alive. And perhaps he is, what with his beautiful family at home, supportive friends, and his self made business. Even if he was an immigrant, he found ways to make a living in this country and opportunities to thrive. After all, he was the type of man who pursued what he wanted with the utmost sincerity. They type of man who others would look up to, had he been of British descent instead of Spanish.

"Pleased to see you again, Ms. West," he greets her, drawing himself to his full height, appearing quite regal even in his worn out suit.

"Go back to the factory," she dismisses him after giving him a quick look over, in no mood to converse this early in the morning. She could never truly function without her arbuckle's. She walks away from the man, towards the kitchen, leaving him outside, his smile slowly turning downwards.

"Ms. West, may I come in?" he requests, calling after her.

"If you must." He steps inside, watching as she orders her butler to brew her some coffee. It is at this point in time Mrs. West comes eloquently down the stairs, making a small show of brushing aside her hair and holding her chin up high. When she reaches the floor, she nods to him.

"Good morning, Mrs. West. You are looking exceptionally lovely," he compliments her, ever the gentleman. He bows again, grinning up at her.

"Good morning to you as well. I trust the trip here was well?" As he begins to answer, she cuts him off. "Yes, well, you should begin your lesson with Jadelyn. The sooner the better as Mr. Oliver is taking her out in only a few hours time." Jade, who had been leaning against the wall, watching the exchange between the two, snorts. She's met with her mother's scathing gaze. "Please stand straight," she demands of her daughter. Jade only looks back at her defiantly, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Jadelyn."

Lane clears his throat awkwardly. "Yes, well, we will get to it Mrs. West. You need not worry, I will certainly teach her all I can," he assures her, giving another quick smile to Jade who only narrows her eyes.

"You can use the room we were talking in last time. I will be upstairs getting ready for a party." Mrs. West leaves the pair and begins climbing the stairs. Jade doubts she has a party to get to, but rather does not want to be around when Jade refuses to learn anything.

"Shall we?" Lane asks, hand extending towards the right.

Jade nods and starts to walk over to the next room. The quicker this ended, the better. Lane follows her and once at her destination, she plops down on the couch. She looks warily up at Lane, one eyebrow raised as he skeptically looks around the room.

"So...What?" she asks, and Lane is about to answer when he is interrupted by the butler. The butler issues an 'excuse me' before handing Jade her coffee and then leaves, no other words exchanged. Jade notices the steam coming off the cup, but drinks it anyway, enjoying how the hot liquid scorches her tongue. Pain was always something she liked.

"Anyway, I was thinking we could get to know each other first. Just quickly," Lane added the last part as Jade rolled her eyes. "I'm Lane Alexander-"

"As you've already told me."

"Please," he tells her and her eyes widen a bit in surprise at his audacity. He ignores her and plows on with his needless introduction. "I'm about thirty minutes walk from here in a small community in Kings. Right on the outskirts. I have a family o-"

"I don't care."

"First lesson. Try to avoid saying things like that. It gives people the impression that, well, you are downright rude and mean. Instead try something along the lines of, 'I would rather we not talk about this subject as it makes me uncomfortable please.' Do you understand?" Lane tries to explain.

"But it doesn't make me uncomfortable, it just makes me bored."

"Yes, but you don't let them know that-"

"But then wouldn't that be called being dishonest? If I'm bored, I have a right to say I'm bored." Jade smirks as Lane presses his lips into a thin line, hands balling into small fists and then releasing over and over again. She takes another sip of her coffee. _This one's easy to break_, she surmises.

"If you want to impress Mr. Oliv-"

"But I don't. My _mother_ wants me to. I, on the other hand, have no reason to want to _impress_ him. I do not like him, nor will I ever," she huffs dismissively.

"Jadelyn, I realize that you want are an independent young woman and it is hard to let go of something you've had most of your life, independence that is, but you're growing up and a man has taken interest in you. It's bound to happen sooner or later-" Lane ignores her groan of exasperation, "and it can be scary, but once you take the plunge you'll realize it isn't so bad. So how about we go back to the lesson?"

"Whatever," Jade gives in, done with arguing. The lesson goes more smoothly after that, though still disjointed as Jade made it a point to do the opposite of whatever Lane said to practice or say. So after a few hours of frustration Lane eventually ends up leaving with a tense nod and a goodbye accompanied with a forced smile. As he's almost at the sidewalk, Mrs. West comes hurriedly down the stairs, alarmed that the man was going without saying goodbye to her.

"Mr. Alexander," she calls, "I hope she was alright!"

He turns around quickly, yelling back, "Yes she was fine! Feel free to contact me if you need anything else!" _God bless his patience, _Jade thinks with a snort even though she finds the short man quite annoying. She hears her mother shut the door but doesn't turn around, but instead heads upstairs.

"I hope you're going to put on something nice," her mother urges and Jade just rolls her eyes and continues forwards. In an hour's time, Beckett would be here. So she takes the time to make herself look somewhat decent (because, after all, she is going out in public) and puts on long black dress. After she's made herself over she goes back downstairs to wait.

Upon seeing her mother she scowls and says, "I don't want to go."

"It's a little late for that considering you're dressed and Beckett will be here soon. You have to go, Jadelyn," she adds when she sees the obstinate look her child gives her. "I can easily take something away from you," she threatens.

Jade sighs but doesn't debate. Instead she sits down on the steps, waiting for the man her mother so wished for her to marry. She thinks marriage is dumb considering not many wives seem to be to thrilled with their husbands. After all, her mother completely closed down when she married Mr. West. Even Mrs. Valentine went astray from her husband when Mr. Valentine left for the war. Jade inwardly groaned at the thought of the Valentines. Caterina. She would have to deal with the illogical girl later and try to teach someone who could not properly read or write all about tuberculosis. Go figure that the family she swore she'd never have ties with she is now helping.

A light rapping against her door rouses her from her thoughts. "Come in!" she growls, not bothering to stand up. The door swings open and, sure enough, reveals Mr. Oliver dressed in an extravagant white suit. Something to expensive for just a simple outing. He steps inside, silly smile plastered on his face like always.

"Ah, Jadelyn! Hello. You look lovely this evening, as always. How are you?" he launches into small talk, giving a quick bow. Jade quirks an eyebrow at the gentleman before her, wanting nothing more than to slap him and be done with the whole affair.

"I'm fine. Can we get on with this date now? I would appreciate it if we'd hurry," she says, voice monotone. He doesn't even flinch at her words, now hardened against her insults from the time spent in her house.

"Of course," he agrees and then holds open the door for her, extending an arm outwards. "Ladies first," he winks at her. She hardly gives him a glance as she stomps from the threshold. Beckett is quick to follow her. "I was thinking we could take a walk through the park. Would you like that?" he questions.

"I don't like parks," she deadpans.

"Look Jade, I-"

"Jadelyn."

"Jade_lyn, _I think you'll have fun. It's just a stroll through the park and then we could have lunch an-"

"Ugh. Fine!" Beck smirks at this small victory and he begins to lead them towards the park. On the way there, he chatters amicably; however, he elicits no more than single sentence responses from his companion. She, instead, answers only when required and otherwise watches the houses as they walk past, comparing them to her own and thinking that her house was much better than the majority of these. She finds herself drifting off, completely blocking out Beck until they reach the park and he puts a hand on her shoulder. She snaps her head to look at him through narrowed eyes.

"We're here," he shrugs, removing his hand. "If you want we can sit down for a bit. There's a bench over yonder so we could rest there for a bit." And as much as Jade wants to say no, her feet are beginning to become sore so she nods her head yes and he leads them over to the wooden bench. It's fairly new, the only hint of use is on the arm rest as some of the wood was pointed up, a sure way to get a splinter should some foolish person rub their arm against it.

She takes a seat, fluffing down her dress as to not reveal anything, as he does as well. Quite closely in fact. He drapes an arm across the back of the bench and crosses his legs. "So Jade," he begins, "how's your work coming along?"

"It's coming fine."

"That's splendid. I've heard that business is slow lately. No one comes anymore," he points out offhandedly.

"They can't afford to. The practice is run well, it's by no fault of my own that they don't come," she hisses.

"Oh no, no, I didn't mean that you weren't doing your job well. You misunderstood. I only meant that the rich go to a different practice for medicine and the poor can't afford to anymore," he quickly corrects, "even though I've heard that many of them are becoming very sick. I'm glad no one has done anything drastic yet."

She snorts at his comment, thoughts of Caterina Valentine filling her head. The stupid girl having actually done something over the top just to cater to her mother.

"What?" he asks, having taken the response to mean that he did not get his facts right. "Am I wrong?"

"Yes." She takes a moment to relish in his confused expression and debates whether or not to tell him why just to piss him. She decides against it finally. He should know why he's wrong. "Some stupid girl tried to break in and demand medicine."

"Do you know who?" Beckett wonders.

"Caterina Valentine," she spills with a disgusted grimace. Beck eyes widen in surprise. Of course he knew the Valentines. For some reason or another, Beckett knew almost everyone in New York City, including the poorer citizens. He made it a point to be kind to everyone and accept them for who they are and what they have. Jade bets if she asked him, he could list everyone on the outskirts in a total of twenty seconds.

"She's _alive_?" he nearly chokes.

"What are you talking ab-"

"She's been gone for _years_! One day she just disappeared and no one knew why. We all just assumed she caught tuberculosis like her mother."

"Did no one ask after her?" Jade inquires, finding this story very unbelievable. If someone went missing in their richer community, the police would be looking for them and everyone would be asked if they knew the whereabouts of the missing person. She supposes, though, that the poor function different than them.

"Oh, we did. No one was particularly fond of her, but we asked. Her father answered with something different every time. She was at her aunt's house, or she was visiting her friends, or she was sick, and sometimes he would say he didn't know. Eventually everyone just stopped asking," he shrugs. "We assumed she was dead and her father just didn't want to believe that both of his children had died," he explains and it baffles Jade how Beckett can be so in the know with the poor. She doesn't understand his kindness and how he could even care about them. There's no point. Beckett's rich. He could have everything he possibly needs without affiliating himself with these dirty people, yet he doesn't care.

"There was another child?" Jade asks, startled by the news, but then, as more time went by, realizing she didn't care all that much and regrets asking the question as now she would have to listen to another long winded speech of Mr. Oliver's.

"Yes, he was the older of the two. He was a good boy and unlike Caterina, everyone liked him. At least from what I hear. He would be around my age if he was still alive, maybe a few years younger. But anyway, one day he and his dad went into the woods and it began to storm. Apparently a tree was struck by lightning or something because it fell right on the boy. The tree that fell couldn't be found later, so his body remains lost; however, this might all be a hoax because some people think his father killed him. Really tragic. The family wasn't the same after that and Caterina became...," Beck takes a moment to think of a word that wouldn't be to insulting, "crazier." Clearly his search failed.

"Oh," is all she says, becoming bored with the topic.

"Glad to hear Caterina's alright though. Perhaps she was just staying away at a friend's, or maybe Mr. Valentine really is insane. Now, would you like to get some lunch now and skip the walk? I'm feeling rather famished." So they leave the park and eat lunch, Jade withdrawing into her previous static state where she provided almost no answers for the ever inquisitive man before her. Lunch takes a long time to finish, both persons bored and tired. One tired from asking questions to keep conversation flowing and the other tired from ignoring the former. Once lunch ends, Beckett pays and walks her back to her house. On the way they there they are interrupted by Victoria Vega. Beckett's eyes immediately light up.

"Hello Victoria!" he greets her, smiling lopsidedly, a boyish trait of his that he never quite grew out of.

She smiles back. "Hello Beckett! What a coincidence seeing you!"

"Yes, indeed. Victoria, I would like you to meet my close friend," he smirks as he says the word close if only because of Jade's instant bristling, "Jade West."

"Jadelyn."

"Jadelyn West."

"Nice to meet you Jade!" she says too enthusiastically, adding a small wave for emphasis.

"The pleasure is all yours," Jade agrees, instant dislike for the overly happy woman drawing a snarky reply from the otherwise monotone teenager.

The smile on Victoria's face wavers and she looks to Beck who just shrugs. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," she lightly says in a joking manner. Jade has heard about this behavior. Victoria was prone to disperse awkward tension in the air by joking. Usually it never worked; however, most people liked Ms. Vega and found her charming. In fact, many _men_ liked Vega, but she was very oblivious to this fact. In fact she was oblivious to most things. Humble and down to earth, as well as kind and considerate with a knack to try to fix everyone's problems, she essentially made the almost perfect person, a fact that appalled Jade and made her want to knock Vega off her high horse, not that there was a horse to knock her from considering she wasn't conceited. It was odd since one would expect someone as rich as Vega to have at least some arrogance, even if her money was potentially obtained illegally. The Vegas were Spanish, meaning they were immigrants and the chances of them becoming rich honestly weren't very good. Because of this, if one was prone to stalking the Vegas, they would see that whenever Mr. Vega went places, cops would always be looking out for him, sometimes even following him. However nothing was to obvious and no one cared that much. In all probability, most cops were tipped off to keep from investigating this oddity.

"Watch yourself Vega," Jade snarls and Vega narrows her eyes slightly at the taller girl, but says nothing.

"So how's Katrina?" Beckett suddenly speaks up, trying to quell the animosity that had arisen.

Victoria rolls her eyes. "She tried to cut up all my dresses yesterday. She calls it the new fashion and promises that it will be the next big hit. It's painful living with her." Beckett laughs.

"Sounds like Katrina."

"She's starting to have everyone call her Trina now. She thinks Katrina sounds too sophisticated."

"Yeah I really don't care," Jade injects herself into the conversation, giving a glare to Beck.

"Alright, well we better be going. I'll see you later Victoria," he says his goodbyes and after she says hers, they continue on their way. The trip there is cold and mostly silent. Once at the West household, Jade begins to head towards the door, but a hand on her shoulder stops her.

"I'm sorry if you didn't have fun," he apologizes. "I should have picked something better to do. Next time I'll find something else to do."

"Next time you should just take Vega," Jade growls and then rips her shoulder out of his grip and stalks off towards the door.

"Come on Jade, you know it isn't like that!" Anything else Beckett attempts to say is cut off by the slamming of a door.

Jade leans against the door, anger curling inside her chest at the audacity of Beckett to take her on a date and then ignore her when Vega shows up. She doesn't care what others think because Beckett is definitely not a gentleman nor anyone she would ever want to associate herself with. She hopes he doesn't have the nerve to visit her house again because she will certainly beat him if he does.

"Jadelyn. What in Heaven's name are you doing?" the sounds of her mother's screechy voice fills her ears because of course she's here. The woman is home all day long with no friends to visit and no one to socialize with. Jade just groans, extremely frustrated with how her day is turning out. "Jadelyn, what happened? You did not ruin it, did you?" her mother accuses, eyes slanting into slits. "You did ruin it. I can't believe you Jadelyn. You were only to have lunch with him and you me-"

"_He_ ruined it actually, thanks for asking," Jade spits, not in any type of mood to be arguing with the crude woman before her.

"You need to stop blaming other people and take responsibility for you-"

"Not my fault he has the hots for Vega," Jade snips before opening the door and walking out, glad to note that Beckett wasn't still lingering. She ignores as her mother howls at her, stating things like she can't just walk away and she needs to grow the fuck up. That she will have to go apologize to Beckett and the rest is muted because Jade is to far to hear her anymore. As she's walking, Jade kicks amiss rocks on the sidewalk, steaming and fuming about the events so far. And now she has to go to work and see Caterina because the girl is a fucking pyscho. She can't even recall how exactly she got sucked into this arrangement with the smaller, more feeble girl. All she remembers is that Caterina threatened to wake up Mr. Wellington and then Jade was giving in to all her demands.

Jade kicks another rock, completely done. She considers just skipping work, but then who knows what Caterina would tell Mr. Wellington and besides, she has no where else to go. A sinking feeling takes over her as she acknowledges that should she ever want to leave her mother, she couldn't. She has no friends, no known family, and no husband or man in her life. But it soon passes because she's Jadelyn West and she feels no weaknesses ever. No, she was a machine, built to withstand all emotional and physical attacks from the world she lives in.

She stops kicking rocks and just walks to the medical practice, accepting that she will have to meet Caterina and she will have to try to teach the thick headed girl a thing or two about consumption. Eventually, with her extremely slow pace, she reaches her work place and enters, kicking off her shoes once inside like she lived there.

"Jadelyn!" Mr. Wellington greets her, ever the enthusiast and ever blind to the tell tale signs that Jade was not in the mood for anything other than to sit in her room all day. "Glad to see you. How did your day with Beckett go?" he questions, jolly blue eyes searching her for answers. His smile is wide and sincere and his expression one of the utmost happiness. Jade sometimes wonders if all of this is an act. If he just pretends to be content because, in truth, there was nothing the man really had to be jovial about. He was running a business with no money, had to put up with an overly angry teenager most of the day, and was constantly running about, trying to find more business opportunities.

"It was fine," she quips, eyes drifting over to the desk next to her.

He takes the hint. "That's good, that's good. Glad to hear it," he tells her before ambling off over to the stack of books in the living room. Jade slides into her chair at the desk with a long sigh and taps her nails against the wooden desk. Really there was nothing for her to do since the medical practice was doing so poorly. So she would have to spend the next few hours sitting at a desk, doing absolutely nothing. And sitting for the next few hours she does. Mr. Wellington eventually gets up and heads to bed, leaving Jade by herself and informing her that she can leave whenever she wants to. That he doesn't really mind. Because of course he doesn't. Jade has been working for him for a while now and he trusts her. Trusts her not to steal and not to scribble all over his records and not to break anything. Which is, she supposes, precisely why she must steal (well that and her boredom). Because she is not to be trusted. She has attachments to no one and Mr. Wellington has to realize this. Honestly she'd like it if he had to watch her twenty four seven. It would mean she was a threat and a powerful one at that. Powerful enough to wreck his business even more than it already was.

In the next thirty minutes, Caterina arrives, bursting through the door with a huge smile on her face. Jade gives her an icy glare, but it does nothing to deter the effervescent girl from bouncing over to where Jade sat. "Jade!" she coos. "I'm ready to learn! I got my thinking cap on." It annoys Jade how this girl who had just been threatening her yesterday was acting like they had known each other for years.

"Just sit down," she orders to which Cat obeys and sits cross legged on the floor, looking up at Jade with wide, wondrous brown eyes. Jade cuts right to the chase. "What do you want to know about consumption?"

To this Cat shrugs and says, "I dunno." It only serves to infuriate Jade.

"What do you mean you don't know? Are you a complete idiot? You must have something you want to know. Something that will help you sister w-"

"Mother, Jade! It's my mother," Cat corrects her, still smiling, still happy. "I don't have a sister."

"Right. You only have a dead brother. Sorry, I forgot," Jade comments offhandedly, trying to get under Caterina's skin just because the other girl was so happy and happiness pisses Jade off. She doesn't know why, but it rubs her the wrong way. There is nothing to be cheerful about in this world.

At Jade's reply, Cat's eyes start to tear up as she remembers her brother's death. All the memories fly through her head, misconstrued and jumbled. She can hardly recall anything about him perfectly anymore. The tears roll down her cheeks and Jade is taken by surprise at Cat's outlandish reaction.

"Right, well we sh-"

"He's gone forever," Cat whimpers. "He left me alone with daddy and mommy and he's never coming back." There's silence as Jade tries to figure out what to do. Comforting the girl was out of the question as Caterina deeply annoyed her and was now balling her eyes out over something that happened years ago.

"Yeah." Sometimes Jade was a genius with words.

"I miss him."

"Well back to consumption. I'll just start by telling you the basics." Immediately Caterina brightens up, grin returning to her features like she had never cried in the first place. Jade's eyebrow raises in confusion at Caterina's mood swings. She had heard the younger girl was crazy, but never like this.

"Should I write this down?" Cat questions.

"If you want."

"Oh...But I can't write. Can you write it for me?" Before Jade can even object Cat is up on her feet and retrieving a piece of paper and pencil from the desk Jade sat at and extends it towards her. When Jade makes no move to take it, Cat just drops it in her lap. "Thank you!" she chirps.

"I never said I would write it."

"Please?"

"It wasn't part of the deal."

"But...But..." Cat's eyes begin to tear up and to avoid another awkward conversation, Jade gives in.

"Okay fine. But only this once. Learn to write," Jade admonishes before picking up the pad of paper and placing it back on the desk in front of her. She grabs the pencil and begins to write as she talks.

"You should use sanatorium. Do you know what that is?"

"Does it have something to do with squirrels?"

Jade spares a glance at the inquisitive curly haired girl. "No. Why would you- Never mind. Sanatorium is exposing the debilitated to the healthiest lifestyle possible. If possible, you should bring your mother to high altitudes, like up on a mountain or something. You should also open a window in her room, assuming she is bed ridden. Fresh air is essential to prolonging death," Jade plows on, ignoring the frightened expression Cat's happiness had morphed into at the use of the word death. "Also, a healthy diet will help. You may also want to prop her pillows up if she's coughing. For fevers you should apply a cold, wet rag to her forehead. Other than that, there's nothing else that can be done without medicine, meaning she will not last."

"You mean that's it?"

"Yeah, that's what I tried to tell you last time."

"She's going to die?" The question is so softly spoken, so innocent, and it almost makes Jade pity the girl on the ground before her. Almost. Jade hands her the piece of paper she had been writing on, ignoring the question. Cat takes it somberly.

"Any other questions? Because we don't need to see each other again as I just told you everything about consumption, so better ask anything on your mind now."

"I still want to come." Cat asserts, not ready to lose the arrangement they had and not ready to give up the freedom she had taken every night that her father was out. If this ended, where would she go? She would truly be trapped inside her house.

"What? Why!" Jade complains with a groan.

"Because you still need to teach me how to read and how to be a nurse," Cat pushes, recalling the statement she flung at Jade as she left yesterday.

"Why would you want to? There's no reason to. I don't have a reason to."

"That wasn't part of the deal Jade," Cate explains. "You help me. That was the deal."

"Ugh. Aren't you supposed to be dead anyway?"

At this Cat looks down at her hands and begins to play with them. "Is that what they're saying?" When no response comes from Jade except an expression of grief for having been stupid enough to ask such a question that would surely spark an emotional speech, Cat continues. "My dad keeps me locked up in the house. Let me come here? Please? Just a few more meetings, that's it. Maybe I can help you with work.

"There's no work to be done," Jade tells her, confused as to how any parent could keep their child locked up. If she was in Cat's position, she would have left long ago and never came back. So what if her mother has tuberculosis? She's going to die anyway. Jade would have beat it the minute her father started keeping her in the house.

"Please Jade?" Cat begs, now locking eyes with the taller girl. For a second, a small bit of pity blossoms in her heart and that's all it takes for Jade to agree. Reluctantly. Because she can imagine how being stuck in one place without any control would feel. Cat jumps up gleefully, yelling thank you, thank you, thank you over and over again, forgetting to mention the next time their meeting would be. The minute the girl leaves Jade instantly regrets her decision, wondering how she could let such a small, annoying girl penetrate her defenses.

* * *

The next day, after her meeting with Jade, she slides into her mother's room holding a bowl of water with a hand towel thrown over her shoulder. She grabs the mask laying on the floor to her right and slips it on with one hand before rushing over to the window to her left and opening it. Then she sidles up to her mother and presses the back of her hand to the woman's forehead. It's hot. She soaks the towel in the cool water she brought and then puts the bowl on the floor, rings out the excess water, and then lays it across her mother's forehead. Afterwards she takes a discarded pillow and lifts her mother's head up gently and places the pillow underneath. Throughout the encounter, her mother never stirs.

"Mother?" she calls softly, placing a hand on her cheek, feeling how warm the woman's body temperature actually is. Unsurprisingly, the woman does not wake. Cat leaves her bedside and continues to cater to her by changing up the towel every twenty minutes or so. After all, she has nothing else to do. The whole day her mother does not stir. No, it isn't until it is nearing the night time when her father has left the house and stowed Cat away that Mrs. Valentine wakes. Cat finds her (after jumping out her window once more) with eyes flung wide open, breathing haggard and wild. Some of her breaths are shallow and some are long and drawn out, like she's holding her breath, and they were accompanied by frequent groans.

"Mom? Mom, what's wrong!" Cat exclaims, but her mother doesn't answer. "What do I do? What's wrong? Mother what's going on!" Cat's own breathing starts to quicken and she feels herself beginning to hyperventilate.

"Pain," her mother is able to get out.

"I'll be right back, I'm sorry!" Cat assures her mother, heart racing. She runs out the door, the only thing on her mind being Jadelyn. She springs to the medical practice in five minutes flat and throws herself through the doors, relieved to find Jade sitting at her desk, scratching drawings into the wood.

"Jade, there's something wrong with my mom!" she panics, her vision blurring as her thoughts, breathing, and heart races. Like she's running a race for her life. Jade is taken aback, clearly unsure of how to deal with the mess that has just entered her office and in her pajamas as well.

"Uh, okay. Calm down," is all the other woman says.

"You have to come. You have to come _now_," Cat pleads with her.

"Caterina, I can just tell you what to do. I don't have to come w-"

"_Now_," Cat tells her, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door. Having not expected Cat to physically make her come, Jade is easily pulled along and it is only until they're standing outside in the dark, chilly night air, that Jade yanks her hand from Cat's hold.

"Cate-"

"She's hurting," Cat tells her simply, urging Jade to help. _She might as well be on her knees, _Jade thinks.

"Okay, fine, let's go. But I am _not_ running." She ends up running anyway as Cat takes off, bellowing that she thinks her mother's life is in danger and as much as Jade hates exerting herself, she sprints anyway because, to hell with it, she's a nurse and she's supposed to help people so this is just a perk of the job unfortunately, as much as she hates it.

They burst into the house, Cat a complete mess, tears streaming down her face, movements jerky and hasty. She leads the nurse to her her mother's room where the woman is still having her fit. Jade immediately goes up to the woman, remembering all that she has read about consumption, and diagnoses her within seconds.

"This is Jade, Ma, she's here to help!"

"I need pillows Caterina." Caterina dashes to her living room and grabs all the pillows she can carry and then returns, dumping them at Jade's feet. Jade works fast, lifting the woman's head up gently before scooting the pillows already on the bed back so that the leaned against the backboard. She adds another one and then starts to softly pull the woman towards the pillows, letting her head finally drop against the angled pillows. It takes a minute or two but eventually Mrs. Valentine's breathing returns to normal and in a heartbeat she's falling back asleep.

"It was a simple fix really. Sometimes it hurts the consumption patients to breathe so to avoid it, they might start acting like your mother did. Almost as if they've had the wind knocked out of t-"

Jade cuts off as Cat suddenly falls to her knees, hands covering her face. She was shaking, clearly not equipped to deal with crises like this. She was sobbing again and left Jade in an awkward position. She had never in her life encountered someone with such volatile emotions such as Cat and frankly, it took her out of her element. Her usual abrasiveness had no affect on the bubbly personality Cat had and any attempts to brush the girl off were ignored. Meanness did not intimidate her simply because she did not understand it. Jade had no idea how to deal with her. All of her usual techniques for scaring others off were nullified. Instead, she held no power in this odd relationship and she was the one who was constantly being taken off guard, just in the three days she had known this oddity.

She decides she better go and begins to head out the room when she feels a hand grab at her wrist. It misses, but has the same affect should the girl have actually gotten hold of her wrist. Jade stops and turns around. She's met with Cat stumbling to her feet and encompassing her in a hug. It is not returned.

"Thank you," Cat tells her.

And for some reason or another, Jade finds herself awkwardly patting the girl on the back, if only for a brief moment.. It's not much, but it's as close to comfort as she's going to give.

* * *

**_Important_**

_Author's Note: So I notice that not very many people are enjoying this story...I think this will be the last chapter as I have no time or energy to really write a story that not many people are in to. I apologize to anyone who enjoys it, but it's very hard to do something when you don't actually have time for it...Unless people seem interested then I will continue. My sincerest apologies!_


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